Molly Stark
by Madipeterxoxo
Summary: This is a story written in first person POV about the prodigy and recently non-crippled daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-Stark. It's only rated M because I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the full series yet, The story is in your control so comment any ideas you have for continuing it.


Hey, guys! This is just a concept for a new story that I'll continue if you all like it. As the description says, It's about the prodigy, cripple daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-Stark. Let me know what you think of it or if you have any ideas of where you would want it to go? Like if you want it to be an adventure or maybe a romance, I'm up for anything. I'm on holliday now so I'll have more time to write for both the Maze Runner series and another one so this is just one option. :) Comments are open and would be much appreciated! Thanks and enjoy!

Pulling the heavy blanket off of my legs and swinging them over the side of my bed with great care, I looked to my curtained windows. A soft knock came from the door and it swung open. "Good morning, Mal! Glad to see you're moving your legs without any help." Hannah placed my breakfast tray on the dresser across the room and pulled my wheelchair closer, then she assisted me into it.

"Is dad home?" I inquired in a hopeful voice while I settled into the chair.

"I'm afraid not, he had to leave to Barcelona early this morning. Shall we eat on the balcony today?"

My smile fell, "sure." Hannah wheeled me to the French doors and pushed them open. The fresh spring breeze of Paris tumbled into my room and washed over me.

"Ah, doux Paris," Hannah sighed as she wheeled me to the table. She sauntered back inside for the tray, clearly not wanting to leave the beautiful morning sunshine.

When I was born, I couldn't use my legs, paraplegia paralysis, they called it. My father refused to let me live my life like that. He has been working on a cure most of my life, as demanding and arduous as my condition has gotten, he hasn't given up. Money is not something my family lacks and neither are resources. My dad owns and runs his own company and works with the government on the side but he doesn't usually talk about that. He has strained every source trying for a cure and he's found it. He placed a small device at the bottom of my spinal cord that enables my brain to artificially send signals to my legs, basically like a phone with a local wifi source. I received this operation two weeks ago today and I was able to move my legs for the first time two days ago. I have extreme muscle atrophy from years of not moving my legs.

"What about mom?" Hannah returned with the tray, placed it on the table, then took a seat.

She poured her coffee slowly and answered, "She is still in Nicaragua with the board working out the terms and conditions for building a new lab there for your father's company."

"I thought she was with Dr. Banner in Spain for the nuclear weap-"

"How is your croissant? I had Mr. Greene run out to by those fresh," She interrupted me as she nonchalantly buttered her bagel.

I gave her a quizzical look then decided to drop it. I enjoyed a breakfast of croissants, strawberries, turkey bacon, and raspberry toast. Hannah cleared the dishes onto the tray then left the room with a promise that she would leave me alone to my homework. I pulled out my tablet and began with my nonlinear dynamics and waves class that my dad insisted I take this year. A loud thud below my balcony caught my attention, pulling my head away from my studies. I wheeled myself closer to the railing and looked down. Twenty stories below I could make out a small figure lying on the ground covered in what appeared to be blood. A car was parked very close to the body-too close. I wished that I had the ability to use my legs so I could rush down there and help. With all my years of hospitals and surgeries, I had picked up a thing or two in regards to the human anatomy. I let my hands fall into my lap as the familiar feelings of defeat and hopelessness began to set in. I looked down at my legs and willed them the move. I pictured in my mind how walking might feel, the pavement beneath my bare feet, bending my legs, curling them beneath me as I bent down to check for a pulse. My heart ached with the hopeless feeling. I knew that help would be on its's way soon but what if it wasn't in time. Suddenly, I felt lighter, as if a weight had been taken out of my lap in a sudden swoop of a hand. I tried to stand up. My legs straightened and for the first time in my life, I was vertical without any assistance. I looked down to my feet as tear filled my eyes. At first glance, I noticed something was not right. My feet weren't actually touching the ground. I felt nothing under my feet. The cold marble flooring didn't emanate its chill into my toes. I was flying. I willed myself to go higher and I rose two inches higher into the sky. How is this possible?


End file.
